i thought, when the sudden dark and the creeping cold paralyzed me, maybe i don't love winter as much as i used to.

then i walked out the door and pulled my sweater and scarf tighter and my heart did that little somersault it does.

you know, the one where it's windy, and dead leaves scatter across the parking lot beneath my feet, and i wonder where my gloves are.

that one where a song is playing in my head, and the autumn melancholy looks up and gives a brief wave, and i sit down across the table and ask how it's been.

that little flippy thing, where i Remember, but when i try to pin it down with my thoughts and emotions, it escapes, elusive as ever, fleeting as a whisper, perhaps an imagination rather than a memory. a feeling rather than a person.

so yes: autumn returns, incessantly, and cunningly dangles my favorite season just within my eyesight and just outside my reach.